Conceal, Don't Feel
by Kuma Kuma
Summary: Short one-shot that examines Lauren's sexual identity, and why she's a closeted lesbian in a liberal city like Austin. Obviously not canon, but I feel like this could explain her behavior. *This is not a continuation, or prequel to my previous story Liar, though I had this back story in mind for Lauren when I wrote that one.*


This is a stand-alone, short one-shot that examines how Lauren might be a closeted lesbian. Totally wishful thinking on my part, as there's really nothing in the canon storyline to support it. It is **not** a continuation or prequel to my previous story, _Liar_. However, I did have this backstory in mind to explain Lauren's behavior in _Liar_. Some minor mentions of f/f kissing, but really nothing overtly sexual. Sorry.

When I was 13 my mother caught me and Cynthia Bluth kissing in my bedroom. When the light had flicked on my blood had turned cold, and we both jumped apart as if being electrocuted. My mother stood there, her face completely devoid of expression. Cynthia opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water, and looked close to tears. I thought I was going to die, and waited patiently for the screaming to start.

Surprisingly, mother remained calm. She politely suggested to Cynthia that maybe it was time to go home. It was an out to this situation that the girl took without complaint. She didn't even look at me before sprinting from my room, and her red pea coat hung like a beacon of shame on the back of my door when my mother closed it behind my friend. After being abandoned like that, I admit I felt a twinge of glee that Cynthia would have to walk home in 40 degree weather without it.

I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable. I suspected I would be disowned, or sent to one of those reprogramming camps for gay kids. My parents were social and fiscal republicans, and had made it quite clear how they felt about the 'gay agenda.'

I had suspected I might be into girls ever since Kelly Meyers held my hand when we snuck into one of those 'Paranormal Activity' movies in the fifth grade. I don't remember anything about the movie, but I do remember, in vivid detail, every squeeze of her hand, every breath she exhaled onto my neck when she hid her face in it, and they way I thought my heart would burst during it all. I was smart enough not to act on the feelings though. I was 11, not stupid.

However, at 13 my hormones must have gotten the better of my intelligence. Another scary movie, another girl who needed a hand to hold and body to hide behind, and another session of my heart beating its way through my chest. This time, though, I acted on my feelings, and I kissed Cynthia when she brought her head up from where it was buried in my shoulder. At first she didn't kiss me back and I thought I was screwed, but then I felt it. Her lips moved and pressed into mine. Before long we had our tongues in each other's mouths. It wasn't the best kiss, truthfully very sloppy, but it was my first. We shared hundred more over the course of the next month, and I knew that this wasn't a phase for me.

At that moment, when my mom sat down next to me on my bed, I wished it was a phase. I wished I could tell her that it was our first time and we were just experimenting that one time. We'd never do it again. That part would be the truth. I knew without a doubt that Cynthia Bluth would never set foot within an arms length of me ever again. Her parents were of the same ilk as mine after all, and not nearly as nice. She was still a bitch for ditching me without a glance though.

Mother took my hand in hers, and I dared to open my eyes and look at her. She looked sad, not angry, and for some reason I started to cry. Was it relief that she wasn't going to disown me? Was I upset that I had disappointed the woman I idolized? My mom was my hero, and I had just exposed myself to be shame to the family.

She held me close and hugged me.

"You know where we live sweetie."

I nodded. We lived in Dallas, TX. It was a red city, within a red state. Overall it wasn't a bad place to live, but I knew full well that would not thrive if I continued down the path I had taken with Cynthia.

"In every young person's life they need to make decisions on where they're going to take their lives. These decisions are based on experience, family, friends, and circumstance." She paused for a second and reached over to my nightstand and got me tissue. "I know you have these…feelings right now, but you need to consider your future. With time, and practice, you'll be able to suppress and conceal them. It'll get easier, I know it will."

A tiny light went off in my brain and erupted into a blinding light of realization.

I looked up at my mom and started to ask, "Are you saying that you're a les-"

"I'm saying that I'm your mother," she interrupted, "and that I have made choices like everybody else. These choices have brought me a respected man who asked for my hand in marriage, a successful career, and most importantly a daughter whom I love. I want to see you succeed, Lauren. I want to see you with a family of your own, and to have your father so proud when he walks you down the aisle. I want to see you admired and respected among your peers." She took a deep breath. "You know where we live. You know what will be expected of you."

"I-I know, momma."

The next day at school I handed a wide-eyed Cynthia her coat and walked away. We never hung out again.

Six months later my mother died. She was hit by a drunk driver. I vowed to make her proud by being the girl she wanted me to be. To succeed, to get married and let my daddy walk me down the aisle, to be admired and respected among my peers.

A year and half later, I've found that the admiration and respect that I had earned in Dallas was absent in this patchouli stinking commune that is Austin. Everything was ass-backwards in this city. It was a Bermuda Triangle of logic, so unlike the real world out there. My daddy met Farrah 8 months ago through a Christian Mingle account I had stupidly set up for him, and started a rapid courtship. I wanted daddy to be happy, but for fucks sake I didn't expect him to get engaged to the first woman he met. I just wanted him to smile again. Two months ago he tells me we were moving to Austin, and moving in with Farrah and her daughter. He was getting remarried. Strangely he was moving in before marrying the woman, something I never thought my devout Christian father would do, but here we are.

And here I am staring at my future step-sister sleeping, who of course just had to be hot. I didn't mean to stand there staring at her. I just came in to measure her room. I had been content to let her have the bigger bedroom when she was practically invisible at school, but then she had to pretend to be a lesbian, and her popularity immediately eclipsed me at school. She doesn't get the bigger bedroom and be the person I was supposed to be, by falsely appropriating a sexuality that I have spent years suppressing. Fuck her!

Ugh, and fuck me! I was practically on the verge of rubbing one out while staring at her, when her alarm clock went off. Thankfully I am able to recover quickly, though having that alarm clock thrown at me helped hide how flustered I was. It also helped me refocus on what I needed to do. Coming out in Austin gets you popularity, but only here, _and_ maybe LA and NY. I'm a Texas girl though; I need to keep on the path that will bring me success in my home state, not just this isolated island of blue. I need to keep on the path that will make my momma and my daddy proud. I need to conceal, not feel, no matter how much temptation beckons.


End file.
